


Lie To Me

by PAPERSK1N



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Achievement Hunter Heists, Alternate Universe - Grand Theft Auto Setting, Angst, Fake AH Crew, GTA!AU, Gavin is head over heels and has no idea what to do, M/M, Mavin, Past Relationship(s), Raywood, everyone is fucked up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-28
Updated: 2016-05-15
Packaged: 2018-05-29 17:41:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 17,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6385963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PAPERSK1N/pseuds/PAPERSK1N
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gavin Free met Michael Jones for the first time in a casino in Las Vegas.</p><p>He didn't know it at the time, but from the moment they caught eyes over a heated game of Blackjack, his entire life had been changed. And it was all sort of Geoff Ramsey's fault.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Vegas, baby.

Chapter One 

 

 

I met Michael Jones for the first time in a casino in Las Vegas.

There are many reasons why I love Las Vegas- there’s something so needlessly inspiring about it; the drinks are sweeter and the women prettier and the money is grander and somehow, the bills feel crisper no matter where you go. Vegas is the kind of place that changes the way people think and the way that they feel. Games are never fair- not in Vegas, but we play them anyway because we like the illusion of thinking that we’ve won.

Really, in Vegas- the house always wins.

Michael Jones played blackjack against me and four other assholes, but by the third hand, a silent agreement had come over the both of us to work together against them, and even though at the end of the game that glorious palace of a house had won, we had a measly four grand in total to split between ourselves.

“Here,” Michael handed me an extra few hundreds as we strolled together out of the casino, close enough to talk but far enough from each other to remain inconspicuous. The security guards didn’t give us a second look- after all, we were just another two clueless idiots- robbed blind by the system we supported.

“You played the winning hand,” Michael Jones said to me. “-you get the extra cut.”

I smiled at him, and he smiled back- a beautiful curl of his cupid’s bow lips that captured my attention from the moment he gave it to me. After collecting our winnings, I decided that we simply _had_ to stay together for the rest of the night, because I was utterly enchanted by his smile alone and I wasn’t ready to see the back of him.

Michael’s hotel room was nice, but the bedsheets were cheap cotton and scratchy and the pillows limp and lumpy. Still, we had our own ways of forgetting the quality of the metal framed bed and we both got our rewards when the other deemed it necessary, piles of winnings stacked on the bedside table.

When I awoke in the morning, Michael, along with his cut of the money was completely gone. No phone number, no last name, not a trace of him ever being there in the first place. At the time, I didn’t let it bother me- I sat up, stretched my aching back, collected my belongings and crept out in the early hours like a prostitute. The other prostitutes in the hotel doing the same thing gave me smirks and nods like we were in on the same joke, and I didn’t have the heard to tell them that the money peeking from my pockets was earned through a rigged card game rather than disappointing sex.

 

* * *

 

 

 

Before I could meet Michael Jones again, there were other game players that had to be introduced, moulding and shaping me into the person I was when he strolled through The Fake AH Crew penthouse doors.

Geoff Ramsey himself was more or less important- but I already knew him. Geoff had been the reason I was sent to Vegas, a little scouting at some of the shadier casinos in search for one of his ex-associates who owed him a few grand- or maybe a few grams? I was never sure when it came to Geoff.

The man I was supposed to be searching for found me, sat in my hotel room with a cigar and a cell phone as I arrived back from my night away with Michael Jones.

“Interesting evening?” Jack Pattillo asked me, fanning a banded stack of money in his hands. An open briefcase sat in front of him, but faced away from me. I didn’t care, I rarely did when it came to Geoff’s dirty work. Geoff Ramsey was a name for a reason, and the people who found themselves in the unfortunate position of people his target knew better than to try and avoid giving him precisely what he wanted.

Jack tossed the money in the case without a second thought and clicked it shut, sliding it across the ground to me, still stood still at the door with dollars fanning from my pockets.

“Right.” I cleared my throat, rubbing at the bitten side of my neck awkwardly. “How, uh- how did you find me exactly?”

Jack raised an eyebrow and stumped out his cigar. “Did Geoff not… tell you?”

“Tell me what?” I asked, fingers dancing over the gun tucked in the back of my waistband. Jack clocked onto my movements within seconds, and held open his jacket long enough for me to catch the shine of a silver pistol tucked away at the inside breast pocket.

“Please tell me I’m in the right hotel room? You’re Gavin- Geoff Ramsey’s kid, right?”

I swallowed. “Yeah. And you’re Jack Pattillo- Geoff’s latest target, right? I’ve been sent here to get what you owe him.”

It was then that Jack leant backwards, an enormous laugh exploding from his enormous pink mouth, bouncing off the walls and straight into my pounding skull. I was already feeling the burn of a hangover from too many drinks during games last night, and Jack’s harsh laughter was only making the throb intensify.

“No, kid- you’ve got it wrong. I’m Jack Pattillo… Geoff’s best friend?”

I frowned.

“Never even heard of you mate.”

“Seriously?” Jack sat up. “Jack Pattillo?” he repeated, gesturing to himself as he raised from the armchair. “I’ve been Geoff’s best friend for years. We grew up together- this,” he tapped the briefcase, “Is the money I’m giving him to help kick-start our new crew. He told me he was sending you to collect it so I could meet you before I join you guys out in LS in a couple of weeks.”

I don’t know what it was exactly, his flushed pale skin or his wide panicked eyes or even the softness of the leather briefcase and the crispness of his white shirt, but I trusted Jack Pattillo. Geoff, being a drinker and general asshole had never been good with explanations, so it was more than likely that one of us had confused the other in a drunken slur of business class tickets to Vegas. Jack Pattillo, after a quick cyber-sweep done remotely from my laptop, seemed like a fairly honest man with a squeaky clean record, and after I finally managed to get hold of Geoff ( _I didn’t say he was hostile, I said he was fucking **hosting** the crew in a new apartment in LS. I didn’t say fucking kill him- I said **grill** him, make sure you got to know each other. Fucking dumbass, honestly!”_ ) I put my gun down and allowed him to take me out for a drink and a chat.

Jack Pattillo was a nice man, it seemed. He paid for my drinks and didn’t even try and get handsy with me- which was a quality that was in the severe minority when it came to the ‘associates’ Geoff sent me to mingle with. Jack, apparently, was actually Geoff’s _friend_ , which was strange, because in all the years I’d been ‘Geoff’s kid’, I’d never met a single one of Geoff’s ‘friends’ before. Geoff didn’t have any friends. He only had me, and I only had him.

 

* * *

 

After Jack, a year of pre planning and plotting flew by. Although initially, it was strange to have a third-wheel support mine and Geoff’s rickety bicycle of ridiculousness, Jack provided stability (and more importantly, logic) to our insane ideas and ridiculous schemes and even a few _shenanigans_ along the way.

It took him a while- nine or ten months at least, but soon enough, Jack Pattillo- true to his word, had turned Geoff and I into real-life, functioning _adults_. We lived in the same apartment, a spacious affair across the outskirts of the city. Living together, drinking together, working together- it didn’t leave much room for other relationships. I had a string of brief one-night-stands and unadvised liaisons but I never brought them home- that was a little too ‘Meet The Parents’ for my personal tastes.

 _Gavin Free_ didn’t fall in love, after all. I was the young carefree kid of the Ramsey name who flitted between jobs like a pretty song bird, flirting and stumbling my way through life and business. _Infuriatingly likeable_ , Jack had described me as over the phone to his and Geoff’s latest side project.

‘The Crew’ didn’t yet exist, obviously at that time- but Jack and Geoff had spent the year between jobs quietly working their little plan. The AH Crew was the working title, something that Geoff had slurred one night under the hue of an _Always Sunny_ re-run but Jack had been looking into some kind of copyright infringement that it carried. In addition to the name debacle, Jack had been in contact with a completely nefarious mass murdering mercenary who had been making a name for himself across the mid-west and surrounding areas for his ruthless and uncaring behaviour.

And I had to give it to the guy- his track record was _glowing_.

“Yeah- Vagabond. I’ve met him a few times along the years.” Geoff yawned as we patiently waited for the arrival of a psychopath nicknamed _The Mad King._ “He’s a nice guy. Total softie, despite the stories. Just don’t fuck with his Legos and do _not_ bring up his Diet Coke addiction if you want to wake up with your skull still attached to your spine.”

Geoff seemed relaxed and carefree as ever, but then that wasn’t much to go on. Geoff was relaxed and carefree about everything from what he wanted at McDonald’s to his Tax Returns. I was fucking _terrified_ for The Vagabonds entrance, and the moment I heard the door handle creek open despite the fact that it was locked, then double locked and triple locked (Geoff’s laziness and paranoia flipped and flopped as the days went by) my body stiffened.

His face was covered with a dark grey skull mask. A black and blue heavy leather jacket was zipped over his broad torso, heavy black boots thudding against Jack’s perfectly waxed wooden floors. Three pairs of eyes looked up to greet him, but he didn’t even flinch, just closing the door quietly behind him and walking over to the kitchen counter.

We all watched him in silence, as he rooted through his pockets and pulled out a more impressive array of weapons than the Royal Artillery probably owned. Where he kept it all hidden I couldn’t even fathom, but there was rustling sounds and clanking and grinding until- after around ten minutes the final tiny butterfly knife hit the top of the pile with a _clink_.

“Bloody hell.” I breathed, involuntarily. Geoff waggled his eyebrows and grinned at me as just past him, Jack watched the Vagabond with narrow, defensive eyes.

He turned, cool as ever and tugged his mask off, casting it aside on top of the pile of weapons. His hair was long and brown but his face was caked in black, red and white face paint, extra dark around his cold blue eyes which popped from the image like a 3D illusion.

He took my breath away with a single thin lipped smirk, and unzipped his jacket before leaning back against the counter comfortably. He’d been standing in our apartment, _our_ space for merely minutes but he already looked as if he was part of the team. Neither me nor Jack dared to move, and I could sense that our resident ‘grown-up’ was scared by the way he sat, tensely. Geoff didn’t seem to notice, just stood up with the same old crass grin and strolled over, giving The Vagabond a quick, friendly hug which was surprisingly returned with gusto and a smile.

“Ryan. Stop scaring the kids.” Geoff laughed, walking towards the sink and running tap-water over a paper towel, which he then handed over to ‘Ryan’, who laughed jovially and dragged the wet cloth over his face slowly. What was an attempt to look less threatening only made him look somehow more terrifying, red and black beads of water dripping down his face as the paint melted away and he gave that giant, serial-killer grin- oddly enough, aimed directly at me.

“Enough!” Geoff laughed again, patting Ryan on the chest. “Gav, Jack- this is Ryan. I pinky-promise he will _not_ murder you.”

Jack stood up before I did, all professional-like with a handshake and a _Mr Vagabond_ and an awkward smile which Ryan easily returned, wiping the rest of the paint away from his face. There were still flakes of black clinging around his eyes and red around his lips, but aside from that he was well on his way to looking almost like a normal human being.

“Nice to meet you… mate.” I said, without moving from the chair I was sat in. “I’m Gav.”

“Geoff’s kid.” Ryan nodded. “I’ve heard about you.”

“Only good things, I hope.” Geoff smiled. Ryan looked back at me, eyes wild as he smirked.

“You could say that.”

 

* * *

 

It was only after I had met Jack and then, subsequently Ryan, that I was ready to meet with Michael Jones again. I hadn’t given our liaison much thought over the course of the eighteen or so months since I had seen him last, but it was a nice memory to wrap my head (and fist) around on nights when I was feeling horny or lonely. Aside from that, Michael Jones was an anecdotal footnote in a trip to Vegas where I met the mother hen of The Fake AH crew.

We were going by that officially by then. The AH Crew was completely off limits. Although he wasn’t the slightest bit afraid of copyright claims, Geoff simply wasn’t entertained by the thought that googling our name would take you to a web site selling automobile headrests. Why a group of mechanics in Indiana needed a whole website and business dedicated to headrests I wasn’t sure- but I wasn’t and still aren’t much of a driver, so it didn’t bother me much at all.

Jack was fixed in his role as the mother of the group by then. Jack packed our lunches and fixed our appointments and kept us all under his watchful eye. And then, if Jack was the mother- Geoff was certainly the belligerent father who argued with mummy when he’d had too much to drink and tried to take us to Disneyland during school term. Jack loved Geoff with a disapproving endearment (a common reaction) and kept him in line enough where they could still be friends and have fun.

If Jack and Geoff were the parents (which they certainly were) then Ryan was definitely the mysterious older brother who all my friends fancied. I was sure he did it on purpose, because every time I did get brave enough to drag a conquest back to the penthouse Ryan would always show up in the morning, either shirtless and sweaty with his nineties-style silky brown hair dripping beads of steamy water across the wooden floors and his damp chest or-  leathered up with a tight ponytail, doing something as menial as spinning a butterfly knife with an edge that reeked of sexual tension and death.

Girls (and boys) loved it. I hated it.

I was the popular kid in school with my finger in every pie and then Ryan was my hot older brother who stole all my girlfriends and ruffled my hair in front of everyone until I begged him to stop. We had a strange relationship. I got on with people easily, it was one of my strong suits, but Ryan was a tough nut to crack. Ryan was a man who enjoyed playing the long game, whereas I liked things fast and cheap and easy.

Ryan was playing a game with me without even putting in effort to move the pieces. He slid into a half formed friendship easily and then never allowed me to break his wall down further. He let me know as much about him as I needed to make conversation and never a slither more. I had expressed my concern that Ryan was either a) trying to mess with me, b) trying to fuck me, or- more likely- c) trying to kill me to Geoff, but he had refuted the claims with a blasé wave and told me to stop being so sensitive.

I didn’t care. Ryan was a weirdo who I liked a lot and he really did drink a lot of Diet Coke. An unnerving amount really- but I didn’t mention it because although a total softie at times I had seen Ryan, by then, mow down cops with an AK-47 out of the window of Jack’s limo for no reason other than the fact that he was bored. He was unpredictable and I hated it because up until his arrival, _I_ was the wildcard. Ryan was both the pretentiously perfect older brother and the annoyingly spoilt new baby. I had been there first but now the new kid had rolled his way out of Jack’s contact list with his big blue eyes and his pretty weapons and everyone else seemed taken with him.

It wasn’t fair- not in the slightest. But Geoff already treated me like a baby and if I wanted to be taken more seriously as an active member of a gang then I was going to have to learn to live with it. I had to bite the bullet and take whatever it was Ryan was willing to give me.

I had to learn to play the game.

 

* * *

 

 

I met Michael Jones again for the second time when he strolled through the door of the penthouse with a stony expression on his face. He was dressed in a beaten up brown leather jacket with his soft curls tucked away behind a dark green beanie. I recognised him instantly, despite the worn blue jeans and heavy black boots covered his pale body and hovering behind him with a giant backpack and a silver briefcase was another boy- younger than us for sure with tanned skin and big dark eyes behind bigger, darker rimmed glasses and jet black hair- paired with a soft looking hoodie in an alarming shade of purple.

I opened the door with heavy suspicion because as far as I knew- we weren’t expecting visitors. When I saw who it was on the other side, it took a lot of reflex not to let my mouth hang agape. Michael looked me up and down with his warm brown eyes and for a second I held my breath, wondering if he would have anything to say of the evening we had spent together under the lights of the casino.

He didn’t.

“I’m looking for uh, Geoff Ramsey?” He asked me. “This his place?”

“Uh- I-”

“-I told you this was the wrong building.” The other guy rolled his eyes. Michael turned to glare fiercely at him.

“Ray- I fucking followed the same directions you read. Maybe when you get a fucking drivers license you can complain about where we’re going and getting lost.”

“Maybe when you start wearing your fucking glasses so you can see the God-damn phone screen you can tell me shit about fucking directions!”

“I can see _fine_!”

“No, you _can’t_.”

I couldn’t take it anymore. “This is Geoff’s place.” I drew my gun, and pointed it steadily at them both. My body tingled at memories of Michael’s hands all over it, so in turn I hesitated when my gun was settled on him and moved it over to Ray with more confidence. “Who are you?” I looked between them.

Neither tensed, which could’ve been either a really good or really bad sign. It meant they’d seen a gun before. It meant they possibly knew what to do with a gun pointed at them.

“I’m Mogar,” Michael pointed at himself and then, after a minute, to Ray. “He’s BROWNMAN.” Then, with a smirk, he looked me up and down slowly. I knew from the dark glint to his eyes that he in fact remembered me very well. “You’re Gavin Free,” his tongue darted out from between his lips to wet them subconsciously and I shifted nervously on my foot, staring at him.

“We met in Vegas.” He extended a hand and slowly, I allowed him to captivate me. I withdrew my gun and shook his hand as Ray watched on with a bored expression until I heard Geoff approach from behind me.

“My two favourite street rats!”

Michael’s eyes lit up when he saw Geoff, and even Ray had a little spring in his step when I moved aside and they rushed in, both hugging Geoff tightly as he asked them how their flight was and what they drove and how they were feeling and if they were hungry like the pied fucking piper of the West Coast

“Gavin!” He called, as I closed the front door and tucked my gun back into my jeans. “Take your little scooter down to the Chinese joint on Malibu Drive and pick us up some dinner.”

I withheld the glare that threatened to shoot from my eyes into Michael Jones skull as he tucked himself under Geoff’s arm with a grin in my direction. “Right-o.” I nodded. “I’ll… get the bloody Chinese food.”

 

* * *

 

It was only the four of us, Jack being in San Diego on ‘business’ and Ryan being… wherever it was that Ryan went when he wasn’t staying in the penthouse. So, we ate Chinese food and watched the basketball game whilst Geoff blathered on about the heist and Ray cleaned his rifle before meticulously packing it away and Michael laughed, harshly and loudly with his mouth stuffed with dumplings and duck and noodles until I had to excuse myself to the kitchen with a glass of water.

“You fucked him- didn’t you?”

I dropped the glass, thankfully only a few centimetres into the sink so it made a loud _clunk_ but did not smash. I fumbled to pick it up and turned to see Ray had followed me into the kitchen, and was rifling through our fridge.

“What, no capri-suns?”

“Uh…” I stuttered, shaking my wet hands dry. “…No?”

Ray shut the fridge, his lips curled around a can of Diet Coke. “No to the Capri Suns or no to you fucking Michael?”

My cheeks lit up like a Christmas tree. “The capri suns.” I blurted out, before my brain had a chance to intervene. Ray smirked at me and once the fridge clicked shut, he walked over the expanse of the kitchen until he was barely a few feet away from me.

“Just the capri suns?” he smirked. I nodded wordlessly and he laughed, once and harshly as I shifted from foot to foot and avoided his gaze.

“I knew it.” He tiptoed past me to reach up into the cabinet above the sink, rifling through it until he found a packet of cashew nuts, opened, which he stuffed his hand into and scooped a handful into his mouth. “He was giving you the eyes.”

“The… eyes?” I asked. Ray nodded.

“The eyes.” He confirmed through a mouthful. “Michael’s got these crazy bedroom eyes when he sees somebody he wants. Dude’s an open book and he totally wants to bang you... again.” Ray left my personal bubble and sauntered over to the kitchen door before I had a chance to reply with an embarrassed mumble.

“Later.” He nodded.

 

 


	2. Twins.

Chapter Two

 

 

 

 

Jack still wasn’t home and Ryan was still… _Ryan_ \- so I was assigned the dreaded task of looking after the two new kids. It was simultaneously the best and worst experience of my entire life up to that point. Michael and Ray and I were all of similar age with similar interests (Video Games. Crime. That was about it) and starkly different life experiences. Michael still looked at me with a constant smirk and the aforementioned bedroom eyes. Ray would scoff and laugh and tease me when Michael wasn’t looking.

But over all- we quickly became good friends.

Michael was certainly the louder of the two. He would shout and holler when he died in a game. He would howl and laugh when Geoff told a ridiculous story and he would scream my name from across the room for the slightest thing. I loved it- the constant bickering and yelling we did in those first few weeks. It was despised by everyone else we shared a living space with but for us, personally it was the most fun we could have together without touching. Michael was loud and abrasive (something he claimed to have inherited from his mother) and I loved it. However, Ray was the complete opposite.

He wasn’t particularly _meek_ but he was quiet and thoughtful. When he wanted to be, Ray could shout and scream just as loudly as Michael and he did so when they got into little spats and told ridiculous stories about their lives back on the East Coast- but at other times he kept himself to himself and stayed reserved. Ryan hadn’t been back to the penthouse since Ray and Michael joined so neither of them had had _that_ terrifying experience yet, but they’d quickly bonded with Jack and suddenly- almost over-night, our little family grew.

New boys- twins even though they didn’t look a lick alike. Must’ve been one of those genetic things- because for two guys who considered themselves to be practically brothers, they couldn’t have looked more dissimilar. Michael was shockingly pale and covered in freckles that I remembered spread from his arms to his chest, with wildly curly brown hair and soft light-brown eyes and dimples in his cheeks when he smiled. Michael was shorter than me, but only by a few inches and was built solidly with the perfect ratio of muscle and softness. Ray was even smaller than Michael- tiny and skinny with lean muscle. He was streamlined to be a runner, the perfect sniper to hoist himself up in high spots and high tail it out when the cops got too close. His skin was tanned enough to be of a Hispanic descent but pale and dry enough to show he didn’t really get out much. His eyes were dark- impossibly so behind his glasses, and almost rivalled the shade of _nothing_ that was his hair, a mop of black ink that covered his head and his jaw and his arms and chest in sparse bursts.

Michael and Ray were both the most _East Coast_ people I’d ever seen. I was a wild contrast to them- sun kissed from a mixture of Italian and Los Santos sunshine with light brown hair and green eyes and my lanky body that Geoff teased me about continuously. It was a strange group the three of us made, and after a few weeks I had to consider how rapidly the dynamic in the penthouse had shifted. Because suddenly I wasn’t the eldest _or_ the youngest anymore. I was the dreaded _middle child_.

Ryan was the cool older brother and Ray was the baby. Geoff had taken to him and Michael straight away without explaining how he knew them, and it was clear to see how differently they were treated to me as well as to each other. Michael was like the rough little brother who wanted to wrestle and laugh and play fight with everybody. Michael was fiercely protective over Ray- the baby- and on one of our first group outings to a bar he’d almost shot a guy who’d bought Ray a beer after he said he didn’t want a drink.

Needless to say, we weren’t welcome in that particular bar again.

Ray was certainly the baby of the family and exploited the role as much as he could. It wasn’t uncommon to find him tucked under the arm of Geoff or Jack on the couch at night in front of the TV with his DS locked in his grip. Geoff would look at Ray with a wispy sort of gaze that I’d never seen from him. He would pet Ray’s hair and lower his tone when they spoke and laugh at all his jokes. And Ray, like the little wisp of a _person_ he was- would float around the room like a fairy and soak up all the attention he was gifted with.

He was bitterly jealous too- something he tried to cover unsuccessfully. When it was Michael or I getting the praise, this bored, disinterested glaze would skim across his face and suddenly, he would be dejected. Ray didn’t want to listen if it wasn’t all about him- didn’t want to play unless it was the game he got to choose.

 

How he and Michael got along so perfectly well, I couldn’t quite understand.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“Where’s Vagabond, Geoff?” I overheard Jack ask one night. He was standing in the kitchen with Geoff and Ray as Michael and I played video games barely a few feet away on the sofa. Well, we weren’t really _playing_. I kept nudging Michael with my foot and trying to kick the controller out of his hand, and he yelled at me and told me to stop with a big fat grin on his soft lips and a light touch to his playful punches.

“Vagabond?” I heard Ray ask, as Michael hit me in the shoulder. “What Vagabond exactly?”

He had an odd sort of hopefulness in his tone. Ray’s voice was usually so flat and monotonous- to a comedic effect, that it was surprising to hear it sound so soft and buoyant curled around Ryan’s codename.

I didn’t hear anything more after that. Geoff and Jack and Ray continued to talk quietly and then, I was much too distracted by Michael’s face, hovering above mine as he pinned me down to the sofa until I had to concede. Not because I didn’t think I could take him for longer- no, I was far too worried about accidentally getting a hard-on and scaring him off. But then, what should he expect? Being all… heavy and soft and loud and close to my face.

I learnt over the course of the next few weeks that Michael was very inconsiderate like that.

We never spoke once about our Las Vegas trip, but he had all these subtle ways of reminding me. Asking in front of everyone if I knew how to play cards, if I liked gambling. Sitting close enough to me on the couch to press our thighs together, nudging me with his shoulder. He always wanted to challenge me- and endless game of _stop_ and _make me_ flittering back and forth between us. Ray grew quieter and we hardly noticed, instead getting louder and more boisterous to shadow his personality shift completely. There wasn’t a day I could walk from my bedroom into the main room and not be tackled or tripped or shoved or nudged.

And I loved it.

We didn’t just flirt continuously. Some nights, I’d hear a light tapping at my bedroom door and Michael would appear with two beers or a soda in his hand, ask quietly to come in and shut the door softly behind him so nobody else heard. We wouldn’t _do_ anything- he’d just sit on the edge of my bed and we’d drink and talk about nonsense until eventually he would start to yawn and stretch and I would be far too sheepish to invite him to stay in my bed.

“Me and Ray have always been close.” Michael told me one night. “Grew up on the streets together, got into trouble together- everything, whole nine yards. We…” he hesitated. “We were close.”

I didn’t ask why he felt the need to repeat it. I just listened and nodded and interjected when I knew he wanted me to until his yawns grew louder and he stood up, hovering in the doorway with the lights from the hallway illuminating around his perfect curly mop of a head.

“Night Gav.” He smiled.

“Night Michael.” I replied.


	3. A stormy afternoon.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ray has a request for Gavin.

Chapter Three

 

 

One on one time with Michael was nothing. It was a regular occurrence- made more frequent by the fact that Ryan still hadn’t made a return- and every time I asked Geoff where he’d gotten to, he would shrug and rub his moustache and tell me that it was _business_ and I didn’t need to worry about it.

That only made me worry more, so one on one time with Michael- whether we were fucking around or just talking quietly- was always a treasured distraction.

One on one time with Ray was something that happened once every summer fucking solstice- but he approached me one night when Michael and Jack and Geoff had gone out to cause trouble somewhere, knocking on my door so softly that for a moment, I wondered if I was hearing things.

“Gavin? You in there?” he called. I called back that yes, I was in bed playing Halo and if he wanted to come in then he should feel free too, which he did, awkwardly standing by the door and staring at me.

“Penny for your thoughts?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. Ray swallowed.

“Yeah, uh- do you…uh…” he trailed off, and I stilled, pausing my game. I’d never seen Ray that way before: uncomfortably shifting from foot to foot, muttering to himself and toying with his bottom lip between his teeth as he tried to piece together whatever question it was forming under his breath. Ray was usually so flippant and causal and unconcerned. Ray didn’t get _nervous_ \- he could shoot a stranger between the eyes from fifteen floors up without batting an eyelid-

-So the fact that he was stood stuttering at my door caught my attention immediately.

“Ray?”

“Sorry.” He sighed, staring at me with his dark eyes glowing. “Just, there’s a guy in this crew called Ryan- right? Ryan Haywood?”

I frowned. “Yeah- Vagabond.” He nodded, shakily. “He’s not been here since you and Michael though. He’s away on business.” I explained.

“I know.” Ray nodded again and again, so vigorously that I wondered if his head would roll clean off and disappear under the bed. “He’s coming back tomorrow- Geoff told me after I kept bothering him with questions…” he trailed off, looking away from me to the corner of the room with a strange glaze shielding his eyes. I held my breath. “Just… I was wondering if you could… if maybe…” he swallowed around the lump in his throat. “I need to see him- Gav. And I need your help to do it.”

I watched silently as Ray clicked and pulled at his knuckles as his eyes fell back on me. “Please?” he asked. “Ryan Haywood?”

“Yeah- right,” I nodded again, flustered. “Just- how do you know him exactly?”

There was a pause- far too long to be natural in the flow of the conversation. Ray’s tongue wet his lips nervously.

“I knew him a long time ago.” He said quietly, before another long pause. I sat on my bed with the Halo death-screen glowing. For once, I wasn’t interested. “And…” Ray rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably and stared at the floor. “-Michael can’t be here when I see him again so I need you to find a way to keep him out the house tomorrow.”

The request was bizarre- but poor little Ray, the baby of our dangerous family looked so genuine and sincere that I couldn’t help but promise I’d help him out. There was something special between Michael and I, that was for sure- but I had already given so much of myself to him in the short time we had become reacquainted, so after a few moments of thinking I texted Geoff and asked if he would keep Michael out of the penthouse for the rest of tomorrow, no questions asked. Geoff owed me a few ‘no questions asked’s.  

When the sun rose on the next day, for the first time in months- Los Santos had rainfall. We were a historically dry city, so as I watched the water streak down the floor to ceiling penthouse windows, blurring the view of the skyline, I couldn’t help but frown, wondering if it was a bad omen.

Ray was sat on the couch a little behind me, his legs curled underneath himself as he too watched the rain fall. I think he was just trying to avoid staring at the door, waiting for the inevitable click of the lock that signalled Ryan’s return.

I’d received a text an hour or so before that our Vagabond was on his way home, but I didn’t share it with Ray. He was already anxious enough, sipping at his third Redbull and spinning a shiny butterfly knife between his fingers as he continued to watch the rain pour over the city.

“It’s raining.” I said.

“I know.” He replied. The conversation didn’t progress past that.

After more silence, like the calling of the devil- three loud knocks echoed through the room. Ray looked at me and I looked at the door, before rushing over to open it, my gun out and behind my back just in case it wasn’t who I was hoping. However, I looked through the peephole and Ryan’s soaked face filled it, so I tucked my gun back into my back pocket and opened the door.

He was sodden, stripping his jacket off and talking loudly and he dumped his bag in the centre of the floor with his dripping mask sat on top of it, blathering on about the rain and his bike and an asshole who’d inevitably eaten a bullet up in the north for getting in his way whilst I quietly tried to catch his attention.

Eventually, when I hadn’t replied, he frowned at me.

“What?” he asked, genuinely looking concerned, for once. “What is it?”

“Whilst you were gone.” I eyed Ray nervously over Ryan’s shoulder. He had turned around minutes ago, watching the scene with wide eyes as his hands shook slightly around his drink. After a few tense seconds, clearly he couldn’t stand it any longer as I tried to explain that we had some new recruits and Ryan told me _yes_ , Geoff had mentioned two new street kids and _why_ was I telling him- so Ray stood up from the couch suddenly and placed the can back on the glass table, making a tiny noise shake the room.

Ryan stilled as he heard it, a lifetime of watching over his shoulder taking over his body like a man possessed. One of his knives- the throwing kind- was in his hand before I could warn him and he turned around. Ray looked impossibly tiny under the glowing spotlights, one hand scratching the hair on his forearm and his gaze locked shakily on Ryan’s.

From what I’d seen of Ryan by then, I knew he was a man of pure reflex. In my mind, I had visions of the silver blade flying through the air and slicing Ray’s skull clean in half before he had a chance to say hello. Instead, however, it hit the floor with a thud and pierced the glossy wood flooring.

“Hi-”

“Ray-”

They both spoke at once, tripping over their words as Ryan began to rush over and Ray began to smile before both caught themselves and fell into awkwardness, Ryan halfway towards the centre of the room and Ray, half a smile dissolving from his face and turning into a nervous frown.

“Would anyone like a… cup of tea?” I asked, idiotically. Ryan turned around to stare at me, his face agitated but mostly unreadable as Ray looked to the ground. Eventually, both shook their heads silently and I backed into the hallway towards the kitchen.

“No!” Ray called, before I could leave. “You should stay- here.” He sat down awkwardly, crossing his legs Indian style and patting the space beside him where I could sit. I swallowed, cursing Ray and Ryan and everyone else who could’ve possibly influenced my life in a way that ended with me there- sandwiched awkwardly in the middle of Ryan and Ray, who couldn’t stand to look at each other for more than a few seconds at a time.

“It’s been a while.” Ray explained without me asking. Ryan nodded in agreement.

“Four years. Maybe more.”

“Right.” I nodded. The room fell silent again and the clock on the wall ticked violently, approaching the hour with an unnecessary haste of the hand that counted the seconds.

“That clock’s fast.” I said, as it ticked over to _1:59pm_. Both Ryan and Ray looked up immediately, thankful to have something else to focus on that wasn’t each other.

“It is.” Ray nodded. “A couple minutes at least.”

“It’s Geoff’s old clock.” Ryan added, right as the minute ticked over to the hour and we all flinched collectively as a painted bird sprung from a tiny hatch above the face, chiming loudly. That clock had sat above the flat screen TV all the time we’d lived there, chiming every single daylight hour of every single day- but it was as if none of us had ever seen it before in our lives as we all tensed, and the bird sprung back into its home.

“I’ve got to go.” I stood up- abruptly and rushed towards the front door. Ray didn’t move but Ryan stood to follow me with gritted teeth, chasing me right out the door as I grabbed my coat from the rack and slipped it on. The door clicked shut but not locked behind us, and Ryan glared at me with such ferocity that for the first time in a long time, I actually felt scared to be around him.

“Was this your idea?” he asked. “Or some kind of sick joke from Geoff?”

“No!” I exclaimed. “They joined a couple weeks ago when you left. You weren’t here so neither of them knew but- Geoff and Jack said something about Vagabond and Ray caught on. He told me he wanted to talk to you! Said you knew each other- which obviously you do.”

“This is a mistake.” Ryan shook his head. “A terrible mistake. I’m leaving.”

“Don’t go!” I pushed a hand out to his chest, pushing him back in place. “Ray’s in there and he’s been anxious as hell for hours, waiting for you to walk through that door. The least you can do is bloody talk to him.”

Ryan exhaled and turned, staring longingly at the glossy black door. “What do I say?”

“Hell if I know.” I shrugged. “You know each other, obviously. You don’t have to explain it to me.”

“The other kid.” Ryan asked, not looking away from the door as if he could look right through it and watch Ray. “Is he kinda short- curly hair. Fiery temper?”

I swallowed, nervously. “Michael Jones.” I said. “But their codenames are _brownman_ and _Mogar_.”

“Thought so.” Ryan nodded and reached forwards to cup the door handle. “Right. I’m going in.” he turned to look back at me, and smiled weakly. “Wish me luck?” he asked with a playful, nervous smile.

“Good luck.” I grinned.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

By the time I’d done a few laps of the city on my bike I was damp and cold. Thankfully, the rain had stopped and the sun was breaking its way through the layers of cloud as I rode the elevator up to our floor.

I made sure to knock loudly at the door, just in case they were in any kind of compromising position. Neither had given much away on the basis of how they knew each other, but I had seen enough to know that it was more than a friendly companion type of thing. The only real relationship I could liken it to was that of my parents- tense and awkward and frighteningly stiff.

However, as I received no reply I opened the door into the penthouse. From the door, you had full view of the entire main room and out through the windows to the sun rising over the city, but I didn’t have time to appreciate the view. There was a different kind of beauty occurring.

They were sitting close together, Ray’s face practically tucked into the curve of Ryan’s throat as they talked quietly between themselves, Ryan’s large beaten hands swallowing Ray’s skinny fingers. I couldn’t see any of Ray’s face besides his mouth, which was wearing a contented smile as it curled around the kind of words which made Ryan’s body relax and soft laughter to flow from him. Ryan and Ray were then, nothing like my parents at all.

I cleared my throat and they jumped away from each other, Ray beaming as he set eyes on me.

“Gav! You’re back.” He stood immediately, looking more relaxed and happy than I had ever seen him. I nodded, awkwardly feeling as if I had intruded on their private little slice of the universe, bursting the bubble as I made my way over.

“The rain’s stopped.” I told them. Both, simultaneously turned to look out the window and onto the city view. Ray stepped towards the window and Ryan wasn’t far behind him, his front pressed to Ray’s back as they stood together under the beauty of the crime capital.

“Yeah,” Ryan nodded. “It has. How fitting.”

 I didn’t quite have the courage, even then, to ask what exactly it was that he meant.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

By the time Michael, Geoff and Jack returned that night Ryan and Ray had become fused together completely. One didn’t move without the other- they sat and talked without me and then talked with me for a bit, but every other sentence or so they would draw back into themselves and glance at each other with fond smirks and quiet, private laughs.

I didn’t mind too much. I just watched the clock and waited for Michael to be home so I could wash my hands of the whole situation.

Geoff was halfway through a conversation with Jack as he entered and passed the sofa, patting me, Ryan and then even Ray on the heads as he passed us. He didn’t stop- just continued talking as Jack followed, shooting apologetic glances backwards at us before following Geoff into the depths of the penthouse. Our boss was on a roll- something that didn’t happen as often as it needed to, so he didn’t have time to stop.

Michael stopped.

“Ray.” I heard from behind me. My face split into a smile and I turned excitedly, but Michael’s face wasn’t soft and tired from a job. He didn’t look content or discontent or irritated or happy when his eyes fell on me. Infact, he barely acknowledged my presence for a second before his face set into a firm frown and he locked eyes with Ray, tucked underneath Ryan’s arm.

“Talk.” He said. “Now.”

And much to Ryan’s dismay, without protest- Ray hopped right up and followed him.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“Ryan’s not that bad, Michael- honest. He’s a little scary at time but… he’s fine.”

“He’s dangerous.” Michael Jones was pacing the short length of my bedroom that night as I sat in bed with my legs crossed and my fingers tired around my Xbox controller. Michael had come over and we’d barely gotten through a game before he started ranting about Ray and Ryan without really saying anything at all- just a lot of muttering and glaring and eventually, pacing up and down.

“You’ll wear my floorboards down.” I attempted to joke. Michael scoffed for half a second.

“Ray’s only gonna get hurt, just like last time.” He said. “I’m the one who’s supposed to be looking out for him- how am I gonna do that with fucking _skeletor_ looming over his shoulder at every minute, huh?” he fumed. “It’s fucking bullshit- I’m the one who’s always been there for him, and then what- this prick strolls on in after nearly five years and everything’s cool again? I don’t buy it, and-” he ranted and ranted, but after a while I began to tune it out and my eyes began to droop closed. I wanted to listen to Michael- I really did because the whole Ryan and Ray mystery was starting to get interesting, but it’d been a long day that I hadn’t really understood, so I couldn’t stop myself when my head hit the pillow and Michael’s voice faded into the darkness.

“He promised me.” I faintly heard, as Michael stopped pacing as sat at the foot of my bed. “He promised me he wouldn’t go there again.”

I was already asleep before I had the chance to ask him what exactly it was that he meant.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The plot thickens. Please leave kudos + comments and I'll see you again soon!


	4. The best pizza in Los Santos.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ray and Ryan grow closer, Michael takes Gavin for a meal.

Chapter Four

 

Before we were ready for the big heist, according to Geoff, we needed practice working as a team. The crew was fully fledged by then- the six of us working and living in tandem as the cogs turned and the flowers bloomed between us. The big heist was a month or so away, so before then Geoff (mostly with Jack’s assistance) had decided to throw together a few mini-heists on pointless hits like gas stations and liquor stores. A warm up of sorts, just to make sure we could all mesh together and not die when faced with a little heat without the risk of time in a federal prison.

“Alright Gav,” he scratched the stubble that was forming around his chin as he went over the notes he and Jack had scribbled the night before. “You’re with me and Michael. Ray, I want you to head off with Ryan and Jack and we’ll cover the store from both ends so there’s no surprises. Cool?” he glanced briefly around the group, as if our approval had ever really mattered.

“No, not cool.” Michael shook his head. “I wanna be with Ray.”

The room stilled immediately, and I couldn’t help myself- I turned to stare at Michael, just as surprised by his brashness as the rest of the crew.

“Does it matter?” Geoff whined. “It’s a back street jewellery store with little to no security. In and out job.”

Michael was only obtuse in response. “You brought us to this team as a pair,” he folded his arms across his chest. “We work together- right ray?”

Ray looked up to Ryan, who after a while, shrugged. Ray sighed.

“Right.” He agreed, stepping over to stand between Michael and I. “We stick together, always have.”

“Can’t we just do lads and gents?” I asked, hoping for a simple compromise. Geoff sighed heavily.

“You know what? Do what the fuck you want. I don’t have the energy to argue.”

I had to give it to Michael- he really _was_ commuted to this whole “Keep-Ryan-and-Ray-Apart” brigade that he was trying to sucker me into. When he’d promised me that he wouldn’t let anything happen between them it was clear that he’d really meant it- because any time the two looked too close in Michael’s presence he would do anything he could imagine to keep them away from each other.

Ryan was growing explicitly agitated but Ray was mostly the same- calm and patient. I supposed Michael was practically his brother and the last thing he wanted was to upset him. Besides, he and Ryan still had the hours after Michael retired to bed when he couldn’t stubbornly fight sleep any longer. It was no wonder the pair of them looked so tired during the daytime. Ryan and Ray wore matching dark circles and creased clothing, and I had personally seen them slip out of the penthouse and onto the back of Ryan’s bike in the late-to-early hours together into the city, free of both judgement and consequence.

It was barely a few weeks before they started sleeping together.

Nobody noticed at first besides me- but it was there to see if you looked hard enough. There were the tiny touches when they walked past each other that hadn’t been there before, smirks across the room when the other winced or scratched at the happy pains hidden underneath their clothes. Ray worse his hoodie everywhere- tightly drawn around his neck and Ryan’s leather jacket didn’t go without the collar popped up to cover his own throat.

But then, Ryan’s teeth must’ve been as sharp as I’d imagined because no matter how tightly he pulled at his hoodie strings, nothing could conceal the fresh hickey blooming on the side of Ray’s neck one morning in the penthouse. Geoff had spotted it straight away and groaned loudly. I couldn’t understand why- Geoff couldn’t care less who we slept with and whether it was each other, as far as I knew. Before _BROWNMAN_ and _MOGAR_ he’d suggested I fuck Ryan to get it ‘out of my system’ and hadn’t stopped bugging me about Michael since the day he’d arrived. However, when he saw the dark patch on Ray’s neck and saw the guilty look on his face when Michael walked into the room his cool blue eyes filled with complete dread.

Michael didn’t say anything at all, but he didn’t need to. His thoughts were written all over his face and poor Ray couldn’t muster a word to smooth things over. The room fell into a stony tense silence, Michael’s knuckles whitening on the armchair and Ray curled in on himself with his eyes fixed onto the TV. Ryan entered with a chipper whistle and ruffled Ray’s hair when he walked past, but Michael’s glare was enough to distract Ray from reacting. Michael’s dark eyes were burning right into Ryan- who hadn’t even noticed he was there.

That was when it began to upset me. Michael cared so much about something that none of us could ever stop. Ryan and Ray were quietly smitten for each other, that was more than clear. So why was he so against it? That was the part that I didn’t understand. It was more than a protective, brotherly thing. It had something to do with Ryan and Ray’s past and whatever it was- I couldn’t quite figure it out.

I went and complained about it vaguely to Geoff and Jack when we were alone in the kitchen one night, just to fish for any information they may or may not have had. Geoff stayed silent throughout the whole conversation, and all Jack wanted to do was talk about _Michael_ \- for whatever reason.

“Don’t worry Gav.” He patted my shoulder. “Michael’s too blinded by loyalty and… _friendship_ to Ray, but soon- he’ll realise just how much you do for him and he’ll forget all about this stupid Ryan-and-Ray thing.”

I said nothing; I didn’t need to. Geoff’s quiet groan was answer enough for the both of us.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

After that, Michael stopped trying so hard to keep Ryan and Ray apart. He still seethed with rage- but it was dulled slightly with the knowledge that he likely couldn’t stop it at all and could only monitor from the side-lines. And by that point, Ryan and Ray were only really sleeping together. Nothing was official as far as we knew and Ryan had a tendency to get bored easily so a tiny, spiteful part of me hoped that he would be done with Ray in a month and we could all carry on with our boring criminal lives.

So Michael stopped being so difficult. Geoff didn’t pair Ryan and Ray up often for his own guilt-ridden reasons that I still couldn’t figure out, but on the occasion that he accidentally did Michael said nothing. However, his bitter glare in the pairs direction could speak volumes, and fifty percent of the time Ray would give in and ask Geoff if he could change sides. Geoff would always let him without question.

The other fifty I couldn’t really speak for. Once the teams split up nobody knew what went on that wasn’t business, but I could still occasionally catch the guilty glint in Ray’s eye as he held on tightly to Ryan’s hand when he thought we were all no longer watching.

One mini-heist in particular (the liquor store, Geoff’s idea, obviously) me and Michael were paired up alone together, and our jobs were both relatively quick and easy. Michael was only there to start shooting if the cops showed up and I was waiting behind him on a bike so we could get away once the job was over. We were nothing if not security guards- hacking and demolitions hardly being a requirement on a quick in and out in the shadier side of Los Santos where stores were mugged more frequently than the weather changed.

So by the end of it we hadn’t really done much at all. Michael jumped on the back of my bike with his gun tucked safely away and gave me directions to the strip of small restaurants and delis on the lower west side and blindly, I let him take me God knows where without once stopping to consider asking why.

We pulled to a stop outside a pizzeria, Michael hopping off the bike first and then nodding for me to follow him inside.

It was that perfect time of the day where it isn’t really afternoon, but it doesn’t feel like the evening yet either. The Los Santos sky is never really _dark_ with the amount of skyscrapers and helicopters that brush the clouds but the sun had already set, and I started to wonder how we had both missed it so easily.

Michael wandered into the pizzeria with an easy sense of familiarity like he had been there more than a few times before. A few couples and a handful of families sat around tiny circular tables and the front of house, a young Italian looking girl with a crooked smile gave Michael a friendly nod before leading us to a table in the back and I felt the tiniest bit jealous.

“Have you been here before?”

“Never.” He lied.

We sat down opposite each other on a dark table in the back with a candle burning in between us and two wooden covered menus strung with treasury tags were laid in front of us.

“I’ll have the house special and a beer, he’ll have anything overloaded with vegetables and chicken and another beer.” Michael handed the menus straight back to the girl, who nodded, before scurrying away. I smiled at Michael across the table.

“Since when did you know me so well?”

He smirked. “You’re not exactly hard to read Gav. You get the same pizza every time we ordered in, figured this wouldn’t be much different.”

“You have been here before.” I leant across the table on my elbows and he rolled his eyes before relenting with a nod. “Yeah, I’ve come here a couple times to… get away from the madness of the penthouse, you know?” he said.

“I know.” I nodded, even though I didn’t know at all. Two bottled beers were laid in front of us along with a dish of olives that Michael immediately tucked into and I grimaced from the smell alone. Too many memories of being a kid back in England working in _Waitrose._ “You should’ve said- I would’ve joined you.”

“Well, I’ve brought you now- haven’t I?”

I sipped my beer. “Alright, fine. The pizza better be good then.”

He laughed and I found myself more interested in just listening to it and to him, as he spun off into some vague story about some people he’d seen walking around the streets whilst the heist was on. How coincidentally inconvenient it was for people in Los Santos to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. How one decision between left or right, 7/11 or Gas Station could be life or death.

Michael philosophised and I listened as large thin-crust pizzas were placed in front of us both. He was right about me- as usual, because the pizza he ordered on my behalf was exactly the sort of thing I would’ve picked straight off the menu myself. I didn’t even stop him when he reached across the table and took a slice for himself, but smiled when in turn he swapped it for a slice of his; something greasy and decked in meat.

Our pizzas were complete opposites, but I had never felt so close to him.

“Tell me a story Michael.” I asked, whilst he chewed and raised an eyebrow at me. “You know- I don’t really know much about your life past the recent stuff. What was it like as a kid? How did you meet Ray?”

I’d dared to bridge across Ray, a subject that was touchy for obvious reasons, but Michael seemingly took it in his stride, chewed and swallowed before taking another long sip of his beer. “Well.” He said. “Childhood was great. I had older brothers who were a lot older than me so I got away with a lot more than I probably should’ve. Other than that, we were all cool- just a normal New Jersey kind of family.”

“Really?” I scoffed.

“What? I can’t be normal?”

“No, you can’t!” I laughed. “You’re _Michael_ _Mogar_ _Vinnie_ _Jones_! You’re as far from normal as things get.”

“Fine- you want the whole story?” he asked and I nodded. “Even the ugly bits?”

“Even the ugly bits.” I echoed. Michael swallowed a particularly large mouthful, and after one last sip of his beer, he began to speak.

“When I was sixteen, I got into… the wrong crowd. Low-key drug dealing, breaking and entering- shit like that. It brought the cops to my house one too many times, so my mom sent me off to stay with my aunt in New York city. My parents took me to the station, sat me on the train so I couldn’t run and my aunt was supposed to be there waiting for me on the other side.”

“Let me guess, she wasn’t?”

“Don’t interrupt.” He scolded. “Eat your damn food and listen. She was there, but I slipped past her pretty easily. She was super religious and shit and I wasn’t feeling that at _all_ , so I ran off into the city where I immediately met Ray. Unlike me, he had zero dollars and zero material possessions to his name besides a gun he’d stolen off of his asshole father before he’d run away from home for his own reasons. So we stuck together, I called up my old dealer friends and asked if they could connect us to anyone in the city. Getting little jobs in New York was like shooting fish in a barrel compared to Jersey- every gang in the area wanted two scrawny kids who they could sell out if shit went wrong.”

“But wasn’t that dangerous?” I asked, because I couldn’t help myself. Michael glared at me.

“Of course it was! What we do _now_ is dangerous, Gav- that’s not the point. We had enough cash to start renting a little shitty apartment in the roughest neighbourhoods and once we were a little older we started branching out more on our own. Mogar and BROWNMAN were our codenames for each other so they sort of stuck. Ray found a rifle one day after we took out some low-down dealer boss in a warehouse and the rest… as they say was history.” He smiled, and his cheeks dimpled. “We met Geoff one night after saving his drunk ass from a mugger in an alley. Kept in contact ever since.”

“Can I interrupt now?” I asked. Michael rolled his eyes.

“Yes. Story’s over, asshole- what do you want?”

Michael’s words were always littered with such awful little snaps and confrontation, but despite it all- when he spoke to me it was never without a fond smile or a laugh, or even just the softness in his tone, giving away that really- he wasn’t mad at all. He could never be mad- not with me.

We talked a little more after that, but I was distracted by his story. He had said it was everything, but still I knew that some facts didn’t add up. He didn’t mention Ryan at all, someone who I knew for sure was heavily involved with the whole thing. And Ryan was never exactly going to admit anything to me, so there was no point in asking.

I asked Michael one more time if that was the whole story, and he lied to my face with the most beautiful smile I thought I had ever seen in my life.


	5. Rooftop heartbreak.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning of the heist is filled with tension and things come to blows between two crew-mates on a rooftop.

Chapter Five

 

 

 

Before I knew it- the heist had snuck up on us.

I’d spent so much time fretting over Michael and Ryan and Ray and Geoff that I hadn’t realised just how quickly the days were flying by. Little mayfly hits on convenience stores and gas stations had become the norm and I found myself treating the grand heist as such until it came to the actual morning, and for once- the tone in the penthouse was far from playful.

Jack had made a few calls and somehow brought an entire breakfast buffet up to the main room. It was a last meal of sorts- and the thought dawned on me very quickly that I could in fact die that day. That morning- that stupid overpriced breakfast could’ve been my last meal on earth.

We sat together for once, on the giant dining table Geoff had brought in from Manhattan and never used for anything other than planning. We sat together around eight feet of shining mahogany in stony silence as forks clattered against china plates. Ray stared at his food and Ryan stared at Ray. Michael stared at Ryan and Geoff stared at Michael. Jack watched Geoff and I watched them all, my eyes unable to focus on a single one of them for more than a second as the tension and the awkwardness built in my gut until I seriously wondered if Jack’s breakfast had all been for nothing because I was really starting to feel like it might make a re-appearance in my mouth.

“Bacon’s good” Michael said suddenly, eyes torn from Ryan over to me. I shot him an uneasy smile as my only response. I hadn’t even picked up bacon.

“It’s great.” Ryan piped up, surprising everyone between pointed looks at Ray. “Not as good as back home though.”

“Not like momma used to grill, huh?” Michael asked. It was a casual remark, but the intensity from Michael’s eyes burnt against Ryan’s steely glare was enough to make it sound like an insult.

A pensive, thin lipped smile spread across Ryan’s face and Geoff gripped his glass of Orange Juice so tightly I wondered for a second if it would shatter in his hands.

“Exactly, Michael.” Ryan nodded. “Nothing beats bacon down south.”

“I don’t know.” Michael chewed quickly. “East coast bacon always tasted pretty good to me.”

“Let’s go out.” Ray stood suddenly, slamming his fork down on the table. He looked at Ryan but couldn’t hold his gaze for more than second before he looked away, around the table at the rest of us. “Let’s just… go out. One last bit of fun together.”

“Absolutely not.” Jack shook his head, oblivious to the tension brimming from the triangle between Ray, Michael and Ryan. “We don’t have time Ray, sorry. We should really leave in the next half hour to start heist prep.”

“Whatever.” Ray walked away from the table, scratching at his arm nervously and barely a second had passed of solid eye contact between Michael and Ryan when they both stood up in complete sync and moved towards him.

Ryan was staring at Ray silently as Michael glared at them both. Ryan was looking at Ray with a thousand words pouring from his eyes but Ray clearly wasn’t listening to a single one as his hands shook around a match and he lit a nervous cigarette right there in the room. Geoff didn’t yell about the salt wallpaper and Jack sat silently. I was wondering if he had finally caught on when he stood up himself and announced awkwardly that he was taking his plate to the kitchen.

Desperately, I wanted to follow him. However, I wasn’t yet ready to leave Michael behind.

“You’re right- lets go out.” Michael said loudly, tearing Ray’s gaze from Ryan’s. “Good idea, Ray.”

“We can’t.” Ryan interrupted, teeth gritted as he stared Michael down. “We’re heisting in thirty- Jack said.”

“So we’ll set the time back an hour.” Michael took another step closer to Ryan, and for a few seconds I wondered if they were actually going to scrap then and there, Ray biting his fingernails anxiously between them and puffing on his extra-long cigarette.

“Nobody’s going out. We’ve gotta move.” Geoff said. Silently, the atmosphere shattered and Ray pushed himself out of the room with Michael following closely behind. Ryan shared a look with Geoff- another silent conversation that I couldn’t quite tap into. Whatever was behind Ryan’s look was behind Geoff’s distain of the whole situation, because he looked at me with frustration and a lingering sadness in his before he too pushed his way into the other room, leaving me alone with the half-empty plates.

I looked over at the table, and realised that Ray was the only person who had bacon on his china.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

By the time I had the courage to reach the main room, Ryan was off by the wall away from the others, zipping up his hefty black leather jacket whilst organising his fancy knives and sliding them up his sleeves. However, he was turned on an angle to ensure he could watch Michael and Ray in the corner of his eye, huddled together on the other side of the room.

Michael was saying something to Ray- but it was far too quiet to hear. All I had to go by was the agitated shifts his body was making and the tight grip of his fists compared to the way Ray was seemingly shrinking, arms wrapped around his own chest as he looked away from Michael tearfully and out the window with a deep-seated frown. He was nodding as Michael spoke, but it was clear that whatever he was listening to- he certainly didn’t agree with.

“Hey- Michael.” Jack called, and thank God he did, because Ray honestly looked ready to explode with either anger or tears as Michael shoved words into his ears through whispers. Michael wandered over, distracted by Jack talking about guns and transport as both Ray and Ryan glared daggers into his back. I wanted to go over, talk to Ray quietly and calmly ask what the _fuck_ was going on- but my feet remained glued to the floor a second to long, because Ray had rushed daringly into Ryan’s arms to hug him tightly whilst Michael’s back was turned.

Their embrace didn’t last long. Michael turned around and Ray stepped backwards- but they were still close enough. For a second, I thought I saw the slightest itch of a smile on Ray’s face as he continued to stare up at Ryan, whose gaze was darting worriedly between Ray and Michael as he watched from across the room with a fierce frown that he was trying so desperately to repress.

“You look cool,” Ray breathed suddenly after a brief glance in Michael’s direction. His hand reached out to stroke at the soft supple leather of Ryan’s familiar jacket. The Vagabond’s painted eyes widened, darting to Ray’s within the second he has spoken. Ray held his gaze, and the two became alone in the room together. “You always look… _cool_.” Ray said.

It was like the bullet from a gun, shattering each and every floor to ceiling window in the room.

Ray had told Ryan that he loved him right then and there in his own way and we had all heard it. _Michael_ had heard it- standing on the other side of the pristine couch, staring at Ray as if he was somebody he hadn’t seen in years.

Ray and Ryan remained silent in the room, but it was Ray who looked away first, turning back to face Michael and the rest of the group. Ryan’s eyes didn’t stray from the vibrant cotton of Ray’s purple hoodie, oblivious to the way the others in the crew were staring at them, the centre of the room.

“Let’s go.” Ray picked up the case that held his dismantled sniper rifle, nodding up at Michael. “You ready?”

“I-sure,” Michael gulped. It was the first time I had seen him speechless. “Sure. Let’s go.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

The heist was simple enough for a group of experienced criminals. It was a little flash for us- but the jewellery store wasn’t decked out with expensive security and was easy to shut down within twenty minutes. Hostages were unnecessary, Ryan was more than happy to shoot them one by one whilst Geoff dealt with the money side. They were in and out with enough cash and diamonds to last a year stashed in Jack’s trunk before I got word that a call had been put through to the police.

The heist went perfectly. That was where I should’ve been worried.

Jack was scheduled to take Geoff and Ryan to a safe house- and my job (other than hacking the stores security and the phone lines to briefly divert police attention) was to pick Michael up once he had planted enough explosives to decimate the jewellery store, thus hiding any evidence like hair or fingerprints. I was ready, sat on my bike with the engine revving round the corner when I called Michael in on my walkie-talkie and announced I was on my way.

“Change of plan.” Michael said. I skidded to a stop so violently that my bike almost went over on itself.

“What do you mean- change of _plan?_ ” I demanded, loudly. I heard Michael sigh over the talkie.

“Look- I planted the explosives already and they’re rigged to go off in ten minutes- so get the fuck out of there.” He told me. “I’m not there anyway.”

“Then where are you?!”

“Go home Gav.” Michael said quietly. I heard a voice behind him, but it was too quick to catch. “I don’t need you to pick me up- I’m getting a ride with Ray.”

I knew immediately then where he was. Ray was a sniper- that the puzzle piece he brought to the Fake AH Crew picture. Ray was sat safely away from all the danger on the roof of some beat up carwash with his rifle on hand in case we got into any trouble.

And for whatever reason, Michael was with him.

“I’m coming to get you.” I said, hanging up the phone before he could reply

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“Gavino- talk to me. What’s your position?”

“There’s been a change of plan.” I explained over the talkie that I had wedged inside my bike helmet so I could talk as I sped through the city, darting and dodging pedestrians and lampposts alike. “I’m heading to BROWNMAN’s location. Mogar is with him.”

“What the _fuck_?!” Geoff yelled. “We’re already in the clear- why the _fuck_ are those two idiots together? Where was that in the plan?”

I bit my lip, torn between my total loyalty to Geoff and my indescribable feelings towards Michael.

“There was… complications.” I settled on. “It wasn’t anyone’s fault. I’m heading round to get them now.”

“God.” Geoff sighed. “Fine. Just… get back home in one piece- please? I wouldn’t know what to do if any of you…” he trailed off, and I heard him sigh again. I instantly regretted my lie, but knew I had to stick with it. Hopefully, Ray hadn’t looked down his scope and noticed Michael on the approach before he had a chance to start yelling.

“We’ll be fine.” I promised, even if I didn’t believe it. “We’re Fake AH. We always come back in one piece.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

They were arguing before I even set foot on the concrete. I could hear them from the street below, yelling. It was loud and their thick eastern accents slurred most of the words so that I couldn’t make them out from a mere eight or nine feet below, so I tossed my helmet to the ground beside my bike and rushed around to the alley where the ladder hung. By the time I had hauled myself up, Ray was backed into the corner of the roof with a tearful expression and Michael was stood in the middle.

I had never seen him look so hurt.

I’d seen Michael angry plenty of times. He was always the one to be prone to a violent or rage-filled outburst whether playful or serious. Michael being angry was nothing to me by then- it was just another footstep on the pavement. Michael only had two emotions- fondness and rage. Or, so I thought.

“Stop it Michael!” Ray shouted. “You’re fucking everything up- you’re saying shit that isn’t true and I don’t understand why you fucking act like this when you know that I… I’m not.” Ray couldn’t really get many of his words out clearly, and despite only knowing him for a few months, it was clear to me that he was lying through his teeth. It was written all over his guilty face and his wringing palms and Michael had seen through it all.

“You fucking love him Ray!” Michael roared suddenly, voice echoing from the roof and sending the nearby birds into a frenzy around them. His voice was wet with anger and frustration and I could only watch as he erupted completely, the constant pressure of the last few weeks finally building to its long awaited boiling point. “Just admit that you fucking love him!”

After that, the roof fell silent. Ray saw me instantly- but Michael hadn’t even noticed. He was far too focused on Ray, standing in front of him with his bottom lip beginning to quiver.

“I don’t.”

“You _do_.”

“I don’t!” Ray lied, louder this time. I could see the threat of tears floating in his eyes, but he was adamant not to let them fall. He sniffed, loudly- like that would cover up the fact that he was falling apart.

“Prove it.” Michael’s voice was defeated and hoarse. “If you can look me in the eye and tell me that you’ve never loved him- I’ll stop.”

I looked in Michael’s eye, even though he didn’t look back. I could see, explicit as anything- that it was a complete promise. Michael was laying his heart on the ground and I was standing there waiting, anxiously as Ray had an internal debate with himself over whether to stomp all over it or preserve it, rotting and broken for another few long years.

Ray blinked, and the tears escaped both his eyes without warning. I watched silently, and desperately wanted to interject- stop Ray from taking Michael’s heart in his hands and snapping it in two, but it was too late. Ray had cried and that could only mean one thing.

“I do.” He said. “I loved him then and I love him now- but that doesn’t mean I didn’t love you too!”

“ _Too?_ ” Michael demanded, voice raising again. “You fucking loved me _too_?”

And that was when it all finally came together, the miniscule pieces of the intricate puzzle I had been trying to solve since I first laid eyes on the unlikely pair were falling into place with every snarl of Michael’s agony.

Michael had loved Ray with everything he had- but Ray couldn’t give him enough. Ray couldn’t give Michael the love he craved like a drug and the affection that he deserved. Michael needed someone who could love him and only him- but Ray only loved him alongside a love that apparently stretched much further.

“I’m sorry.” Ray cried, and I didn’t feel the least bit sorry as tears spilled down his face. “I’m sorry that I love him.”

“Don’t fucking look at me.” Michael bit. Then, his bleary eyes travelled from Ray’s to mine, finally. “Gav,” my heart leapt as he said my name. “Come on- let’s go.”

Despite how wrong it may have appeared to be at the time- despite justice and injustice across out sordid and dirty world, my heart laid where it always had and I followed Michael Jones off of that roof, leaving a broken Ray completely alone behind us.

 

 


	6. Crystal confession.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael has a lot of needs. Gavin just wants to be wanted. Geoff has a confession.

Chapter Six

 

 

 

“Are you alright Michael?”

“Shut _up_ Gavin.”

That was the extent of our conversation that day on the heist, when I drove us back to the penthouse on my bike. I didn’t dare push Michael further than that and he didn’t say a single word. He stormed into the penthouse with his fists by his sides, snatched a six pack from the fridge and disappeared into his bedroom- where he wouldn’t be seen for another two whole days.

I decided over the course of the next week that I despised Ray and Ryan. We didn’t see hind nor hair of them from the moment the heist was decimated and I was ashamedly pleased to see that they were gone so I could have Michael to myself, in all his grief and his glory. To Michael, it was like Ray had died right in front of him on that rooftop when the guilty confession was spilled that through all their time together, Ray had only loved him _too_.

I hated Ray for this, and I hated Ryan for going with him. I decided that I hated them when I saw Geoff throw a full crystal bottle of expensive scotch at the wall of the penthouse, furious eyes glaring as the brown stain seeped into the wall when he realised that they had taken their belongings and left in the night, rooms only bare shells of what used to be. I decided that I really, _truly_ hated Ryan and Ray. They were impetuous people, making their way impetuously through their own impetuous world without a single consideration of the hurt and destruction that they had left in their wake.

Geoff was hurt but he would get over it. Jack was irritated but he would get over it.

Michael was completely shattered to pieces, and I wasn’t sure if he would get over it quite as quickly as the others.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Two weeks after the R and R connection’s spontaneous disappearance, I found myself alone with Geoff for the first time since… I couldn’t remember how long it had been. Up until the heist I’d spent my time between planning with Jack and watching Ryan and Ray and most of all, chasing Michael for answers he didn’t want to give in some pathetic attempt to see if he _liked_ me.

Geoff was laid out on the new couch after the old one had been torn across the back by Michael’s foot in yet another _rage quit_ moment. One hand was resting on his forehead tiredly and the other one was playing with a stress doll, squeezing it over and over again until the high pitched squeaking made me feel uneasy.

“Geoff.” I said, startling him and sitting down beside him. “You alright?”

“Hey Gav.” He sighed, tossing the stress doll across the room with one last squeak. He shifted to lay his head in my lap and I rubbed at his dark hair softly. “You okay?”

“Ha.” I snorted. It’d been a very long time since I’d been the one asked that question. “I’m alright, I guess. Annoyed, at Ray and Ryan.”

“You can’t blame them for loving each other.” Geoff said softly. “It gets to the best of us.”

“Really?” I looked down at him with a soft smirk. “Even you, Geoffrey?”

His face immediately scrunched and his nose wrinkled. “Nah.” He said, but I knew it was a lie. “Not me- but it does get people. It got them- no matter how hard I tried to stop it.”

“You?” I frowned. “What did you have to do with anything?”

Geoff bit his lip, and I immediately knew he was guilty. I’d lived with Geoff almost as long as I’d known him- and we’d spent plenty enough time together for me to be able to figure out when he was telling the truth and when he wasn’t. Geoff was a dirty liar by trade like we all were, but he’d never been able to fool me. I knew every single tell he had.

“Geoff.” I nudged him. “Spill.”

He exhaled deeply, as if he had been holding onto one single breath for a long, long time.  

“I knew Ryan for a long time.” He started, shifting to sit up so he was beside me instead of against me. He wanted to look me directly in the eyes- so I would know that it was nothing but the complete truth. “We talked, more than you’d think. He… told me about Ray- a long time ago. He’d met them- Michael and Ray, years ago on a job in New York where he and Ray had fallen in love. But he didn’t know until Michael had his hands wrapped around his throat that Ray was sort of… taken at the time.”

“Shit.” I said quietly. Geoff nodded.

“Shit indeed.” He agreed. “Ryan felt bad but… he loved the kid and the kid loved him back. He broke up with Michael but they agreed to remain friends and work together. Part of that was breaking things off with Ryan- so Ryan left the city and moved mid-west. Not long after he told me the story, I met Ray and Michael myself and I just knew they’d be perfect for the crew. I knew it’d be awkward with Ryan but…” he trailed off, gripping the couch cushion tightly in frustration as he looked down guiltily to his lap. “I didn’t expect it to flop so spectacularly. Now…” he looked away from my eyes, towards the door that led into the hallway. “Ray and Ryan are gone. Jack’s pissed because he knows I’m hiding something and Michael… Michael’s a wreck and it’s all my fucking fault.”

I frowned, edging closer to Geoff on the couch so I could rest my head on his shoulder comfortingly.

“It’s not your fault Geoff.” I said quietly. “You didn’t know it would turn out like this. If it’s anyone’s fault, it’s mine. I’m the one that got them back together in the first place. It’s a wonder that Michael doesn’t hate my guts.”

“Please.” Geoff scoffed. “As if Michael could ever hate you.”

I said nothing but my skin did the talking for me, heating up and staining red as Geoff laughed softly.

“It’s true.” He said with a yawn. “Whatever’s going on with him right now- you’re very important to him. He needs you.”

“Maybe I’m sick of being needed.” I replied. “Maybe, instead- I just want to be wanted for once.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

After my conversation with Geoff, he left the living room to find Jack in the penthouse. More so than Ryan or I, Jack was Geoff’s oldest and most trusted friend. He deserved answers more so than the rest of us.

Without Ryan lurking in the shadows or Ray curled up on the couch with his Nintendo DS, the apartment felt eerily empty, and after I few minutes I simply couldn’t stand being along much longer. So, even though my heart was heavy and beaten down, I pulled myself together and headed towards Michael’s room.

He was still fragile and I was still a fool, so I liked to go in and check on him every now and then, just to make sure he was okay. Michael was known for his spontaneous rages, but as of recent he hadn’t done much more than mope and, when he thought I couldn’t hear, cry. It was worrying- and something told me that a spectacular _Rage Quit_ was long overdue.

“Michael?”

He was sitting in the centre of his bed, flicking through an old beaten leather journal with a hard frown set in on his forehead. However, when he looked up to see me in the doorway, his face softened into a smile.

“Hiya Gav.” He nodded, closing the journal gently. I stared at it.

“What’s that?”

“This old piece of shit?” Michael wrinkled his nose and waved the journal as I stepped further into the room. “Old diaries from when I was a kid and me and Ray first started working. I don’t know why I’m bothering with it- it only makes me fucking angrier.”

“You need to let your anger out.” I told him with a nervous smile. “You can’t keep it all bottled up for very long.”

“Whatever.” He shrugged, and tossed the journal into the corner of the room like it was nothing more than an old, tattered blanket, devoid of any personal memories or connections. I watched it fly through the air as the pages rattled and a muted sadness settled in my gut.

“I’m serious Michael.” I told him. “Do it now.”

“Do what, Gavin?” Michael sighed, defeated. “Fucking start raging? What’s the point?” he rolled his neck agitatedly and I watched with my fingernails digging into the palms of my hands.

“It’ll make you feel better.” I dared to step forwards and sat on the bed beside him, just close enough that our knees knocked together briefly as the bed shifted under my weight. “Honestly,” I smiled. “I promise.”

Michael rolled his eyes at me, but the expression on his face was still as fond as ever. “You really want me to start fucking screaming and hollering at you?”

“Love, I can think of nothing better.”

“Fine.” Michael grunted, and I watched as his fingers flexed. “You got me, Gavin. I’m fucking angry about this whole situation and I’m holding it all in because I don’t have the fucking energy to let it out. But it’s just going to keep fucking building until eventually, I fucking explode- right?”

“Tell me why.” I prompted. “Tell me why you’re angry.”

“Why the fuck do you think?!” he shouted. I rolled my eyes.

“Be specific. Tell me the truth, Michael. Cut the bullshit.”

“What fucking bullshit?”

I sighed at his defensiveness. Michael had seemingly spent his entire life constructing this wall, made up entirely of brick and concrete to keep the rest of the world away from his battered heart and his bruised ego. And it was all the fault of his best friend in the world, because he’d been foolish enough to fall in love with someone who couldn’t ever love him back in the way he deserved.

And the one thing Michael really needed from me, was to hear it.

“Geoff already told me the truth.” I said. “Ray cheated on you with Ryan, back in the day. You broke up and promised to stay friends if Ray cut ties with Ryan, which he did- until Geoff invited you here and he couldn’t help but fall back in love. Because you were still so pathetically in love with Ray even though he couldn’t even attempt to love you back.”

It had all spilled from me in a far more spiteful and venomous than I had initially intended, but I quickly realised that Michael needed to hear it in such a malicious way. For a few seconds, I wondered if I had gone too far because he hadn’t started shouting- instead he was sitting watching me with his eyes wide and his jaw slack.

Then, slowly, his mouth closed and I heard his teeth grit.

“You wanna fucking know how I feel Gavin?” he growled, pushing his hands into the bed covers- I suppose to avoid lashing out and punching me in the gut or the face or worse. His gun was only on the night stand, after all.

“Ray fucking broke my heart- but you already fucking know it all, don’t you? You know exactly what I fucking think about this whole situation because you’re some kind of expert on how I fucking _feel_?! Is that it!?” he yelled, and I resisted the urge to smile.

“Ray fucking _cheated_ on me with a dude he’d known for two minutes. Not cheated like he fucked him and then I found out- no, he fucking _fell in love_ with somebody else whilst still pretending like he loved me. Ray fucking fell in love with someone else and then came and told me about it months later- asking if we could still fucking be _friends_.”

“I know-”

“No, you don’t fucking know!” He snapped. “You have no fucking idea how hard that was for me, Gavin.” He frowned, and I felt the last piece of resolve I had start to break. The thin muslin walls I had built around my own heart were starting to blow away as I sat there and let him yell at me. Even though I had asked him for it, as Michael yelled I started to wonder if I couldn’t just _continue_ in this way, sitting around and waiting for him to finally wake up and realise that the one person who could love him how he wanted was sitting right in front of his eyes.

“Can you even fucking imagine in your tiny fucking birdbrain what that must’ve felt like for me, Gav?” he asked selfishly. “To _love_ someone with everything you have, even when you know that they don’t love you back?”

“Yes.” I admitted. I did know what that felt like, and the sting was still impossibly recent. I reached out bravely to run my fingers over the pulse point at Michael’s wrist, feeling the rapid beat of anger and poison under his thrumming veins. I was no longer scared that he would reach up and hit me in his rage because I was starting to develop a rage of my own. I’d hit him right back in his perfect little face until his lips were fat and he couldn’t speak his poisonous, selfish words anymore.

Michael gritted his teeth and I looked up to his face, beautifully scarred from a lifetime of fights and explosions and I prayed that the look on my face alone could summarise the words that were muddling themselves around in my brain.

Michael looked at me, and I nodded. “I can.”

He frowned. “ _Gavin_?”

“ _Michael_?” I mimicked, desperate to keep the conversation as light as possible so I could keep my cards completely concealed and to my chest. However, it was clear now from his perplexed expression and the stiffening of his arm that I had told him by accident and that now, he knew. “It’s okay.” I shook my head, even though really, it was about as far from okay as I could imagine. “You love _Ray_ ,” I laughed. “The most complicated criminal moron I’ve ever met. How _could_ you ever love me after that? If we didn’t live together, you probably wouldn’t give someone like me the time of day past a shag in a Vegas hotel room.”

“You really believe that?” Michael asked. “You really believe that _that’s_ what I think of you?”

I sighed. For someone who committed crimes for a living, it was hard to keep hearing the lies every single day. I was so done with it all, the constant cover ups and disguises and debauchery and criminal intent. In my mind, it had run its course, and suddenly the appeal was gone. To me, it was boring- Ray and Ryan were _boring_ , Geoff and Jack were tired, and Michael…

Michael was prepared to lie to me until the day he died and I didn’t want it anymore.

“Gavin?”

I looked away. “You don’t have to lie to me, Michael. Not anymore.”

“I would _never_ lie to you, Gavin.”

He made it look so genuine, that for a second I almost believed him- the faint spark of hope trying so desperately to ignite in my chest, but I willed it away with the little will power I had left, keeping my stare fixated on the floor.

“Oh what?” I asked, bitterness compelling my mouth into a snarl. “You love me? Is that what I’m supposed to be waiting for? You’ve always loved me, and you were so blinded by what you thought was love for Ray that you didn’t realise it until now? Yeah right, Michael.” I physically shifted away from him, sitting further down the bed so I didn’t have to touch him and hopefully, the temptation to claw his eyes out and kiss his pink lips would dissipate. Michael remained silent so I continued to speak, a small part of me still desperately hoping that he would interrupt, and say: _No Gavin, you’re wrong. It’s all true. I love you_.

“-it’s bullshit, Michael.” I said instead. “You can’t just fill me into the empty space that Ray left in your heart, because we’re… well- we’re completely different shapes, aren’t we?”

“I know.”

“-and despite how much you think you hate Ray and Ryan now, they didn’t really ever do anything wrong Michael. Not really-”

“I know.”

“-You can’t help who you fall in love with. Ray loves Ryan, and Ryan loves him too and it’s not either of their faults- it isn’t Ryan’s fault that Ray loved him as well as you, and that he couldn’t love you like he wanted you to-”

“I know Gavin.” And for the first time, I heard him. Michael reached out and grabbed my hands tightly between his. “Gavin- you’re right, about everything, honestly- you are.”

His words were the complete opposite of what I wanted to hear. I wanted him to hate Ray and love me instead, but I suppose that we both knew that that was never possible. I was never going to be loved _instead_ \- not when I deserved to be loved _because_.

“-Maybe I don’t love you right now,” Michael continued, and I watched as almost physically, the angel melted from his face. “Not like you love me, anyway- but that doesn’t mean I won’t ever.”

“And what?” I sniffed, tears that I hadn’t noticed welling in my eyes dropping down my face. Michael reached up, wiping them away gently with the pad of his thumb. “I’m just supposed to wait for you? That’s not fair-”

“-I like you, Gavin.” Michael smiled. “I really do. I think you’re a beautiful idiot, and that you’re ridiculously smart and you’re funny and you’re an asshole- just like me.”

“But what does that _mean_?” I whined. “If you don’t love me- then what’s the point?”

Only then did I realise that Michael’s hands were still cradling my face. “Is that really how you think this goes?” he asked me. “That everything is so black and white- I can love you or I can’t?”

I sniffed. Perhaps he was right, for once.

“Gavin- I already like you, and I have for a while. I was too caught up in the Ray thing to even let it expand like it could’ve, and I am sorry for that. I’m sorry that you fell in love with me before I had a chance to catch up- but believe me when I say this. I don’t love Ray- not like you think.”

“Don’t lie-”

“I’m not lying!” Michael laughed. “I love him in the sense that I would protect him and be there for him- but I don’t love him in the way that you think and I haven’t for a long long time. Ray broke my heart over a year ago when he told me he just wanted to be friends, and yeah- I was fucking angry and bitter about it all the way up until now- but that isn’t _love_ , Gav. That’s contempt and friendship and jealousy. It isn’t even close to love.”

“So _what-_ ”

“-So,” he cut me off. “There is no Ray shaped hole for you to fit in. there’s only empty space, and if you let me- I’ll mold it to fit you.”

I sniffed again, desperate to still be angry and to fill myself and him with hatred like he’d been doing for months. But, unsurprisingly, my heart wasn’t in it anymore. I had never been a spiteful person. Michael had known nothing but spiteful people. I wanted to change that.

“You’re cheesy.” I settled on saying, so I wouldn’t give away much else. He grinned.

“I know. Now c’mere.”

Michael hugged me, and surprisingly it was enough. I didn’t need anything more than that. Just a hug and a laugh and a long winded chat that went on into the dead of the night, before Michael kissed me gently on the cheek and I crept back out into the hall, right back into my own bed for the night.

And surprisingly, it was enough.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up next, Epilogue!
> 
> Hey! Let me know what you thought of this by leaving kudos/comments! They really make my day.
> 
> Question: Do you think Gavin did the right thing by standing by Michael, despite the fact he might get hurt? Do you think Geoff was wrong for introducing Ray and Michael to the crew? Do you think Michael is asking for way too much, or just enough?
> 
> Let me know what you think!
> 
> And, if you liked this- check out my other fics, or check out my tumblr for RTAHetc (PAPERSK1N.tumblr.com)


	7. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A tiny little baby epilogue to round things up. Thanks to everyone who enjoyed this story!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you like the ending! I want to take this opportunity to thank you all and say I had a great time writing this fic. It's nice, to play around with a new style and discover skills you never knew you had. I'm over all very happy in the way this fic came out and hope you are too!

_Epilogue_

 

 

Michael hasn’t said that he loves me yet- but I think that he’s pretty close. Over the past few months I’ve learnt to how read Michael like a book. The wall is crumbling, but it’s still slow. I don’t mind waiting.

I can feel that a large part of Michael does love me, even if he’s still a little scared to let it. I can feel I in the way he holds me tightly and kisses me softly and rests his face against mine when we speak quietly in the dead of the night- or when we laugh and bicker in broad daylight in front of the whole crew without caring about anyone else in the room but each other. Michael loves me in many of these ways- but he isn’t really ready to say it yet. And that’s alright, because I say it all the time twice over to make up for it. Michael spent weeks learning how to make tea like we do in England just so he can make it for me when I eventually get up in the mornings, long after him. Michael makes a shit cup of tea but I drink it all anyway, and every time he hands it to me, I respond the same way.

“Thanks Michael. I love you.”

And every time, he replies in the same way. “Whatever.” He’ll say with that stupid little _Michael_ smile, dimples and all as he shakes his head fondly. “Idiot.” I know exactly what Michael means when he says that. _Idiot._

Ray and Ryan are back. Surprisingly enough, in their triumphant return the hardest person they had to win over again was Geoff. However, Ray’s still the baby and Ryan’s still the eldest so they’re kind of impossible to hate for very long. Geoff is still the irresponsible dad and Jack is absolutely still the practical and organised mum.

Me and Michael, we’re the same.

Middle children- stupid, overlooked, forgotten middle children. And for the first time since the crew started, I realise that that’s totally, completely alright. Because we’re together.

And that all I ever really could’ve asked for.

 

_Fin_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, what did you think? Please let me know in the comments below!
> 
> Question: Do you think Gavin was right to give Michael a chance? Do you think Ray and Ryan were right in how they behaved? Do you believe that one day, Michael and Ray will bring their friendship back to how it used to be?
> 
> Do you think Michael really does love Gavin? (Hint: I do.)
> 
> Thanks to everyone who read this fic, left kudos and commented! For more, check out the rest of my AO3 or hit me up on tumblr: PAPERSK1N.tumblr.com - my ask box is always open if you have any more questions- or leave your own question in the comments below and I'd be more than happy to answer :)
> 
> And hey! Thanks.


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